On the move
by Hannah van Horne
Summary: Huge redo and update! A girl who moves all the time finds out that the beloved world of Harry Potter is actually real and that she is a part of it.
1. Chapter 1: Flight 239

"Flight 239 is ready for pre-boarding. All passengers with small children or those that need assistance, please board now." The airline hostess' voice crackled over the speakers.

"I am a small child, lets go." As always, I had to say the regular joke.

"Haha, you are a little too big to pass for that." Mom said as she smiled without opening her eyes.

Damn… and as usual I was hoping it might work this time. That way we could actually get on the plane without all the jostling and I could get back to attempting to sleep. But no such luck, not that I really expected any, being 5' 11, I know my mom was right. Everyone thinks I am way older than I actually am as well. But I always try. I flicked my thumb around the controller of my iPod, to turn up the volume and block out the annoying man jabbering on his cell phone behind me. I have been lying on the most uncomfortable row of chairs in existence for the past 5 hours. I estimate that I have gotten about 30 minutes of sleep all together, give or take a few minutes. I huff and throw my arm back over my eyes, so I don't have to look at the glaring fluorescent lights.

What seems like an hour later someone pokes me in the stomach and I jump to my feet, stuff my iPod in my Nautica sweatshirt pocket (all the way from the outlet stores in Wan Chai) and I'm wide awake, roaring to go and ready to fight my way to the front of the line.

The voice is now telling the exhausted group of travelers in the waiting room:

"Flight 239 to Heathrow Airport from Saint John's is ready for boarding. Flight 239 is now ready for boarding." I hoist my red Canadian roots backpack that is about to burst at the seams on my back, which makes me haunch over like an old lady and I continue to pile a huge, blue, Nike sports bag over my shoulder.

I run to the ticket desk in record time, for once managing not to trip. My parents and older sister are hot on my heels. Only three people managed to get in front of me and lucky for them I am too tired to be in a bad mood or they would have to watch out. The air hostess gives me one of those sickly sweet smiles that make me grimace, as she takes my ticket and puts it through that little machine thing. She checks over my passport that if I may say so myself, looks great in a Louis Vuitton cover (which I never admit to anyone is fake). She hands it back after making sure the exhausted looking girl in front of her is the same one shown in the really bad passport photo. At least it's not as bad as it used to be when I still had a wrinkly baby picture.

I stomp down the corridor to the plane and glance behind to make sure the rest of my family is coming. After a few twists and turns I reach the plane and get stuck in the aisle because of all the bags hanging off me. The business class passengers are looking at me like I am freak, which I can't disagree with. I finally get to collapse in the window seat that I got only after fighting with my sister for over an hour last night. But, typically, most of my view is obstructed by the stupid wing. Seriously, why do they need to make them so big?? Not like they are THAT important.

So there I was. But where was I? That is the question. As usual I was somewhere that had to do with a plane, either waiting for one, waiting to take off, flying, waiting to land, waiting for someone to get on a plane and leave or waiting for someone to get off a plane and return. My life story in a nutshell. Almost. That is where this story is going. Or hopefully is going if I ever have time to pen it all… Hahah pen it.. As if! I never use a pen, good ol' technology for me thanks. I have a teeny, tiny, shiny, silvery laptop that is literally my life.

Anyways, back on track. When people ask me about myself, I can find no other definition than travel. I don't do anything else. It is my favourite part of my life and also the most hated. I love the new landscapes, cultures, languages, people, everything. But, then there is the jet leg, the stiff backs after being squished in a tiny seat for hours in the same position, trying to sleep standing up in the lines and living off 'food' that looks and tastes like plastic. But most of all, I miss never really having a place to call home. We are always moving, but never have time to fully unpack. Heaven forbid we actually stay in one place.

Right, so where was I going with this? Right so lucky you, you of all people to get hear the other side of the story! But that's not all! There is actually something that makes this trip different from all the rest and I am not talking about new sight seeing locations and a new apartment. If you want to find out what I blabbering on about, you will just have to read on! (Man that sounded lame)


	2. Chapter 2: Me

Alright lets back up a little bit….

Flash back to Five minutes earlier:

"Flight 239 is ready for pre-boarding. All passengers with small children or those that need assistance please board now." The airline hostess' voice crackled over the speakers.

A little farther than that please!!! Let's start at the beginning.

Flashback to ages ago:

May 4th, 1989 was a sunny holiday in Germany and a beautiful little girl was born…

Not that far! Gessh it seems I have no control whatsoever on this thing! I really am in need of a replacement brain. Or a least an upgrade for goodness sakes! I am thinking more about a month ago…

Flashback:

"Well, I was just offered a job in London. How would you girls like to come along and live there for a while?"

"That would be amazing, Papa! I have always wanted to go back to London! When do we leave?" says Tanya, my sister.

"Great I am going to get a British accent again, aren't I? It took me forever to get rid of it last time, even longer than the French accent that you guys made fun of me so much for."

"But it was too funny honey." Laughs my mom. "We had so much fun at the daaaanse." She imitates me and I scowl.

"Well unfortunately the job starts soon, so we would leave at the end of the month." My dad says as he eats some salad (my mom is trying to get me to lose weight and forces the others to same food, which is fine with me, if I have to be miserable, I am bringing as many down with me as possible).

"Dude! Do I get to skip the rest of the term?!" I look around excited… I hate school under normal circumstances, and my current school is an all girls hell hole.

"Of course not! Don't be silly. You will go to school there."

"Great. Probably a stuck up British Boarding School." I mutter under my breath and luckily for me only my sister hears, but she still manages to kick me under the table.

"Well, we will have to start packing then." My mom says. She continues to talk about what will need and I mutter,

"We haven't even finished unpacking from the last time yet!"

End Flashback.

So as you can guess it's a month later. We flew from Halifax to Saint John's and then waited forever to get on the plane that will take us to London, just like we did for vacation last March break.

So to pass the time, maybe you want to know a bit more about yours truly? Or maybe not, but too bad as I am going tell you anyways. I am Hannah Van Horne, the one and only. As you learned from the wrong flashback I was born in Germany on May 4th in 1989 and if anybody can count that would make me 13 right now. An unlucky number in my opinion.

As already mentioned, I am 5 11". Or in other words, I'm huge. My parents say I am pretty, but really I am all blockish because not only am I tall, I am wide. Like a giant really. The Hulk! You can run, but you can hide!!! My feet are the most misshapen things you have ever come across and it is impossible to find shoes to fit them. I have to go to the huge outlet malls in the U.S. and pay over a hundred bucks to get some simple sneakers that fit. Furthermore, I am insanely clumsy I am always in danger of falling down, or even up stairs. Flabby thighs, bit of a bulge on the belly, a chest unnaturally large for a girl just out of the preteens that I have to strap down with uncomfortable sports bras; big wide shoulders, which according to my mother means I should never wear tank tops or halter tops of anything of the sort pretty much sums it up.

"Tank tops just do not look flattering on broad shouldered women like us." To quote me mother. Riiiiight. Whatever you say.

The only things about my physical appearance I like are my eyes. My sister, in an abnormal act of kindness, once said they looked like islands, the black pupils surrounded by a ring of yellow sand, with the green ocean that gradually turns to blue. My hair is okay, but it's just too darn straight and boring. But at least my mother finally let my grow it out. For years I had to endure the humiliation of looking like a boy. Walking into the change room at the pool, and having people tell me the guys change room was across the hall was not my idea of fun. Nothing is worse than having to try and convince someone that you are, in fact, a girl. Well enough about that. As for what is under all that, I am not very good at describing it, if there is more than an empty shell, which I doubt. But I'm going into grade 8. I am supposed to be living in Halifax, Nova Scotia, which is on the Atlantic coast of Canada, for those of you who don't know. But we move so much that it hasn't been home in years. Where have we been?? The list is long: Hong Kong, Mexico, Sweden, Germany, British Columbia, San Francisco for a while, South Africa and god knows where else.


	3. Chapter 3: Admission of an Obsession

I always thought that Heathrow has to be the busiest airport ever. Last time I was here, I was terrified I was going to get lost or fall down in the press of people and cause a domino affect. But really, I am the worst ever for getting lost… I am waaay to absent minded, to interested in everything going on around me and I spend too much time looking at everything, instead of where I am going. Here you can see people from far off places, not reached by imagination. My mother is practically dragging me along like a little kid to keep me moving. Sigh; of course we now have to spend the next hour waiting in custom lines. This is one of the worst parts of traveling in general, the waiting. I hate lines like nothing else. I can usually amuse myself for a while people watching, but the impatience soon takes over and I just go nuts, which is exactly what I am doing right now. Seriously could they stamp passports any slower? The officers move like old people covered in slow molasses! (as my grandmother would say) I cross my arms, slouch and scowl, much to my mother's dismay. "Stand up straight!" she whispers out of the corner of her mouth. She doesn't really care what I do as long as I make her look good by being presentable or whatever.

And yet again Air Canada has lost all of my bags. I swear this always seems to happen. So I am thrown into yet another line and then I fill out a pile of paper work, so they might attempt to find my bags. Those bags have some of my most important possessions in them so they better be found! What could be so important you ask? Just my Harry Potter collection for one. I admit it, I am one of the obsessive. Not for Harry I mean, oh no. But the story, it has to be the best escape route ever. I would give anything to be a witch and get out of this stupid life. Like my ultimate dream. I have read both of the books over 10 times. The very first one is so beaten up that I had to tape it together with packing tape when we got to Hong Kong. They have been all around the world with me. I got the first one as a gift while traveling through Switzerland. I spent the 6 hour train ride totally immersed in the book, I missed all the scenery I was supposed to be looking at. I can not wait till the third book comes out! I am going to rush to the store as soon as it does.

Well, you've probable noticed that I'm a complete techie. Those bags also have all my essential gadgets that I can't live without. Well, except for those never leave my body like my iPod and my camera. So pretty much that leaves all of things that go with my laptop, my CD player, Wacom tablet, all my software CD's and my electronic drum set. That's right an electronic drum set. It's packed separately in a big box and protected by all my sweaters stuffed in the edges. I've been playing for 3 years, but I lived in a condo at the time, so I couldn't have a real set. So, I got the next best thing. But it's a bit of a hassle getting it everywhere, but I can't live without it. During my first year of drumming before I got my set, I would collect those little Pringle cans everyone would bring to school and fill them with different stuff. Then I would horde them in my desk and when I needed to play I would set them all up and bang to my hearts content. Well, that is until one of my classmates stopped me, which unfortunately would always happen relatively quickly. It better get here soon…


	4. Chapter 4: Where is my room?

Finally! Free from the airport. I step out into the foggy mist that everyone remembers when they think of England, and all four of us and our bags pile into one of those adorable black English cabs. And we sped off towards our new apartment. I spend most of the drive taking in the surroundings, as usual. I love to stare out the window and all that is going on around me. I feel like the only observer of the little bubble that is the world. Separate from the excited chattering of the family, the talk on the radio, the traffic and people going to and from work. Watching as the world turns.

We drive up the building and my sister rushes up the stairs to our apartment so she can get the best room. I'm left down at the street to lug all the suitcases and boxes that aren't even mine, up all these stairs. It's going to be a long afternoon of sore muscles.

By the time I finish, Tanya has already started unpacking and I am covered in scrapes. I finally get a chance to rest and to find the room that will be mine for the next year. This place isn't too bad. It's already partly furnished of course and the couch is much nicer than the one at the last place we had. This is very crucial for my brain cell killing sessions in front of the tube… which is surprisingly an acceptable size. The kitchen is a little small, but that is to be expected in a place like this. Lots of fridge space though for hiding snack food. But I can't find my room, so I go back to the front door and systematically go through the entire apartment, from the laundry room to the tiny office… I'm in a state of shock. I swear there has to be a room missing. There is seriously no place for me. It's as if I don't exist!

"Moooom!!!"

"Hannah, don't shout!" she huffs.

"Where's my room?? Why is there is no room for me?! Are you sure we are in the right apartment? Maybe ours is supposed to be the one across the hall. What am I going to do?!"

"Oh, you are sharing with Tanya remember honey? I told you that ages ago."

Absolute horror. My jaw literally drops to the floor. She must be joking. She HAS to be!! There is no way I can share a room with a constantly PMSing teenager who is more like a time bomb that a human being! The house in Halifax was barely big enough for the two of us and it was huge! This must be some sort of misunderstanding… its GOT to be!

"Haha" I laugh meekly, "You're joking right? Seriously, where's my room? I need to get unpacked before school starts."

"Hannah you are sharing with Tanya according to plan. It is too expensive to get a bigger apartment, that's just the way it has to be."

"No way! There is no way we can share a room! We will kill each other!! Don't you remember when we had to share in Hong Kong when the guests took over my room?? She kicked me out and I had to sleep on the floor of the laundry room and the dogs peed on me! Mom, be serious you can't make me share with that, that witch!"

"Stop it this instant! You shall not call your sister by such names! I'm disappointed in you. You are sharing a room and that is final! And heaven for bid, if I hear any fighting!"


	5. Chapter 5: My life is over

My life… is over. Kaput. Gone. None existent. It was thrown into a black hole. How am I supposed to survive for a WHOLE year like this? I've dragged the bags I have into the room and dump them on my bed. Correction, bed? It's a cot. Flat out. She has the beautiful day bed with crisp white sheets. I've got yellow moth eaten ones that were pulled out of a dank closet, to cover a cot that is about to spring back together and crush me in the middle. How can they do this to me? My sister is smirking as she puts her neatly fold, size 2 tank tops into the top drawer of the dresser. She was always the perfect daughter, so she gets whatever she wants. But, I guess I should go and stake out my bathroom space as she hasn't thought to do that yet, although all I want to do is sit and sulk.

Okay, time to be mature, even though she is older than me by 5 years grr… right, maturity is something I pride myself on, but it's really hard to maintain all of the time. I spent all evening trying to make my half of this dreaded room like my own. Since I have so little of my stuff here, it really feels like I'm staying in a hotel this time. It's so hard to make an impression on a place. All I have is my current novel on the floor next to the bed, my pj's under the pillow and just the essential hygienic things in the bathroom. Not much else. But I covered on of the walls with some of my drawings, posters and cards. My sister hates this, she thinks it's tacky, which is an added bonus on top of the decoration.

Seeing as there is no food in the house, the parents decided that we should go out for dinner. Some place nice they say, so of course my sister gets all dressed up. She is totally 'psyched' to meet all the hot English guys. We climb in the cab and I feel like my day has taken a turn for the worse, which is a rare thing for me to think when I am about to eat. Meal times are usually a highlight for me. Here's my sister in a gorgeous pink shirt and a nice pair of jeans, make up and fancy hair. On the other hand is me… clothes all wrinkled from the plane, bags under my eyes and hair that I attempted to untangle with a plastic brush. The only other thing I could do was wash my face. I haven't looked worse in years. I pray there aren't any cute guys wherever we are going.

At this moment I am burying my face in my napkin. It was useless to hope. Tanya has been flirting with the really cute waiter all evening and my parents just sit and laugh about how she will have another 'conquest' by the end of the night. I am sooo embarrassed. The waiter totally ignored me while he was drooling over my sister. At one point he was totally oblivious to anything else that he stepped onto my foot and spilt a whole pitcher of water on to my lap!! Just what I needed to finish off the disheveled, crazy, peed my pants look. Maybe it will become the new fad… probably not.

I slump onto the cot, but jump up just as quickly as it squeaks like it is going snap shut.

"Haha, what are you doing? You look ridiculous!" My sister laughs as I gently lower myself onto the cot so my weight is spread evenly, which is a hard thing too do as its all dense around my hips and stomach.

"Trying not to get squished, isn't it obvious?" I grit my teeth.

"Whatever." She says and she tosses her long, shiny blond hair. I shut my eyes so I don't have to watch. A blond haired, blue eyed beauty with the nasty hidden personality to match. Woops, getting a little spiteful, got to keep my brain in check before I get in trouble. All I can say is… I hope tomorrow is a better day…


	6. Chapter 6: Bagels and letters

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling, the lucky girl. The other characters added in are all owned by yours truly, the one and only.

Finally we get to the juicy part! What's going to happen?? I'm sitting at the edge of my seat to find out too because I really am not sure what is going to happen either. The last chapter was completely unplanned and I have no clue where it even came from… well maybe a small clue… but on with the story!

Mmm… it smells like toast… burnt toast. Wait, no, that's the Canadian History Moment… it's bagels I smell for sure. Heaven! I haven't had bagels in years… "Too many calories" my mother's voice rings in my ears. So how in the world do I smell them? I open my eyes a crack and grunt as the light hits them. Where am I? I roll over and… "OUCH! Ugh…" promptly landed on the floor. That really hurt. All of a sudden a fluffy thing hits my head.

"Be quiet!" That was mean… she just threw a pillow at me. Strange, it feels like I'm hungover… but I'm too young to drink, I don't even know what that feels like… But I do know that crapulous means the same thing. Learned that little tidbit in English class, in grade 6 from a teacher who looked like Santa Claus… that was a fun year. Man my mind wanders. If I could just figure out where I am… That must have been my sister who threw the pillow at me, no one else would even dare. I open my eyes again and stumble to get up and I almost scream when I see a monster looking at me. But wait, that's just my reflection in the mirror… which honestly I must say, is a more frightening prospect than the monster. My hair is usually flat, but now it looks like I have a 'fro because of all the tangles. What a nightmare. Too lazy to fix it now, so I wander out to the kitchen to find some of those marvelous smelling bagels.

Bagels and cream cheese… nothing like it. Better than coffee to wake you up in the morning. I munch away with a lopsided grin on my face that is a telltale sign that I am off in food la la land. I don't just live off food, I live _for_ food. I don't just have a comfort food, it's like food is my comfort pretty much. All of a sudden I am jerked out of contemplation of all the different types of bagels and the numerous combinations with the different flavored cream chesses when one of my parents grunts,

"Go check the mail box, please." But I am not sure which one said it, because they are both hidden behind their newspapers as usual. I stuff the last bite in my mouth and I shuffle to the hallway in the pink fluffy slippers I stole from Tanya.

I put the little key into the lock of the mailbox and think how foolish it is to check it as no one would send us anything yet. I open the mailbox and to my surprise there is a thick envelope there along with a few flyers. They must be for the previous tenants. I grab them and grasp the banister for support as I crawl back up the stairs. I stomp to the kitchen, still annoyed about the interruption from my bagel and put the mail on the table. My mom lowers her paper at last and flips through what is there.

"Hannah the only letter here is for you." She says. "Huhn? Me? That's weird." I lock myself in the bathroom, always the safest hideout and take a glance at this letter.

Ms. H. Van Horne

Apartment #2

62 Magnolia Lane

London

Huh. It really is for me. Says so right here in emerald-green ink and everything. Who writes in green anyhow? Wouldn't you just type it? Very weird. I flip it over and start to rip it open when I notice that it even has one of those old fashioned seals on it. It even has the crest stamped into it, just like they used to do. I always wanted to write a letter and stamp my ring that bears my insignia in the wax. All very official, formal and totally cool. I looked at the crest and it had a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake around a large letter 'H'. I swear I have seen that before…. Oh my god!! It can't be! That's the Hogwarts crest! This is so amazing! I most have won that contest I entered! That is sooo cool that they make the envelope look the real thing. I attempt to open the envelope carefully, so I can save it and brag about it to all my friends, but it's really hard because I am so excited. I bet I'll get all sorts of really cool Harry Potter merchandise. Maybe a shirt, a cloak or a snitch!

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

(That's so cute, they put the letterhead and everything!)

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Ms. Van Horne,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are unfortunately a few years behind due to extraneous circumstances, however, we feel someone of your potential talent is up to the task. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on the 1 September. We await your owl no later than the 15st of June._

_Yours sincerely,_

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Snap out of it! You are a dumpy 13 year old with pimples and a big butt. Dream on!


	7. Chapter 7: Say what?

Say what?!

What about informing me I won the contest and you are sending me an amazing prize in the mail? I grabbed the second sheet of thick yellow paper and it was indeed a list of books. Surely they are not going to send me these books as the prize? No doubt, I definitely would like to read them but I didn't even think these were written! Aren't they just part of J.K. Rowling's story? Maybe they made something up for the fun of it. But then what is with this first page? I've been accepted to the school? That must just be their way of telling me I won the contest. I get it now. I emerge from the bathroom and march out to the kitchen and collide with the table, spilling the milk.

"Whoops…Check it out! I won a Harry Potter contest! They are going to send me these books that go with story. How cool is that?"

"Really?" Says my mom with some actual interest as my father cleans up the spill, "Let me take a look." She reads both pages and looks and me perplexed. "When did you enter this contest?" she asks.

"Ummmm… not really sure. I signed up for one a while ago, but I thought it was to win some clothing." I mutter, sensing trouble.

"Well number one, you should not be giving out your address over the internet! That is extremely dangerous! Who knows who will have our address now? Do you want some pedophile coming after you? And two, how did they get this address? We only knew where we were living a week ago and no contest would have that fast a turnover rate. This must be just an ad for the books or something. Couldn't be a contest. But you are not to enter anymore of those contests."

My heart deflates. There goes that dream.

"Not even the one for being an extra in the movie? I have been practicing my part to read on tape for it and everything!"

"Absolutely not. Probably not even a real contest anyways. Just a lot of advertising hype."

"She could still enter though couldn't she?" My father asks, always my savior. My eyes light up, there is still hope left!

"Definitely not." She crumples up the letter. "Now go get ready, we need to go shopping for essentials and we need to stop by your new school. And do something about your hair!"


	8. Chapter 8: Super Freak

I look like a freak. I am wearing a scratchy, woolen gray skirt like thing that poufs out like a bell and makes me look 10 times fatter than I actually am, which is not something I need. The shirt looks like it's for a man and its really crisp and starchy so its hard to move. A weird bow tie is cutting off my air and a sweater with shoulder pads is making me look like a football player. Huge clunky shoes, which are impossible to lift off the ground. That's right. I am wearing my new school uniform. Looks like this is going to be a bad year. How can anyone be expected to make a good first impression when you look like this?!

My mom dragged me out of the house to go 'shopping'. Most girls like shopping and I bet you are thing, what's wrong with that? But unlike normal girls, I hate it. Trust me… no one likes this kind of shopping. It's horrifying, terrible and extremely damaging for ones tiny ego.

"That's too small for you. You need to work harder on you diet. If you get that dress you are going to have to stand up straight and really suck in your gut." Sigh. But today it was even worse because it was all of that and I don't get anything good out of it at all.

And now for really boring essentials. We do this ever time we move someplace because we never take this stuff with us. Believe me, nothing is more boring than garbage can shopping. (They call them bins here, right?) Or getting plates and cutlery. They aren't even nice ones because they are only temporary. I usually end up being the only one that uses this stuff anyways. Even though we move somewhere for my parents work, they always seem to up and leave. To go to another city or even back home. If they are actually in the same city, then they are always out for meetings. I'm pretty much on my own most of the time and while it can be really depressing coming home to an empty apartment or house, that's the way I like it now. Oh, did I forget to mention where my sister is through all this? Usually out partying and not getting in trouble for it. Or locked in her room working because her grades are so much more important than mine, which means I get to do all the chores, dishes, vacuuming, walking the dog, cleaning the bathroom and anything else you can think of, including straightening carpet tassels with a spaghetti scoop. It's always so strange the first few days when we get someplace because I end up spending so much time with the parents, who are more like strangers than anything else. I have no clue how to act around them. No matter what I do, they always seem to get mad. But enough about this. If it's depressing me, than it is most definitely depressing you.

We eventually get home, put away all the stuff we bought, hung my ugly uniform up so it doesn't get wrinkled and even uglier and ate some yucky sandwiches. Now I am lying on the gross cot, waiting for sleep to come and fighting it at the same time because I am so afraid of being squashed in the middle of a dream. But it would put a stop to the upcoming embarrassment that is sure to be tomorrow in a new school.


	9. Chapter 9: Day 1 of 2?

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The other characters added in are all owned by me.

BEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP!! I slam my fist down on top of the tiny clock to shut it up. I groan, carefully sit up and slide my feet into Tanya's fluffy pink slippers. I'm glad I nicked them from her; the floor is cold enough to freeze my toes. Stretch up to the ceiling. I stand up and sway in the stupor of sleep. Okay, think Hannah, lift one leg, move it forward, now the other. In this fashion I somehow make it to the bathroom, crank up the heat and turn on the hot water in hopes of warming up the place. I grope around the counter in blindness until I find a toothbrush, hold it up close to my eyes to determine the colour, as I don't have the goggle like glasses on yet. Tanya would kill me if I got my loser germs on her pristine, pink toothbrush. Why is there so much pink? I'm not really sure, probably just to torture me.

15 minutes later, I feel much better, my eyes are actually fully open, I can now form words, sentences is a bit of a stretch but I am getting there. But at the moment my mind is consumed with the pain of brushing through the tangles. Oh the pain!! Finally I have two sheets of straight brown hair on either side of my head, not really sure what to do with them though, but I will figure that out later. I go to the closet and dread opening the door for fear of what is behind it, that's right, the uniform. I drag it out and slowly pull on the gray bell skirt and grimace as the fabric scratches my skin. On comes the shirt, bow tie and football blazer. I slump over to the mirror and I have to say I don't think I have ever looked worse and I have had some bad looks in my time. My only consolation is that everyone will look like this.

"Hannah! Are you dressed yet? Its time to take your picture for the first day of school!" Oh man! Not again… she does this every time. Always has to have a picture of the first day at a new school so I can always remember just how many horrors I went through and just how horrific I looked, instead of blocking it all out like a normal person. I go into the hallway and mom starts fidgeting with my hair and muttering about how messy I look. "Tanya hunny, are you all beautified?"

"Just a minute!" She replies. Great, a minute in Tanyaish means practically an hour. I lean against wall as my stomach grumbles and after what seems like forever, she comes out looking radiant as always. Of course, the grade 11's at this school don't have wear the uniform anymore. Okay before we go any further, I would like to open the floor to any wagers on how long it will take my sister to have a boyfriend/stalker/obessessor/ fan club or all of the above, with that outfit on. I'll give you a penny that she will be successful by lunch time. Sorry to disappoint, but I'm poor or I would bet a million. Finally, I get to eat, but of course Honey Nut Cheerios is to expensive to buy in London so I have some weird flake things instead.

"Now smile! First impressions are very important! Do you have everything? Binder, paper, pencils?" I nod, "Don't forget how to get there, come home right after school, don't get lost and be on the lookout for extra-curriculars. You need a good looking resume!" Even though I am 13, thus too young to get a job for ages. Plus no one would want a girl who has to commute from across the world and never has a permanent mailing address. "Blah blah blah… And don't forget the three rules! What are they?" Mom says with a laugh. She LOVES the rules. "Don't throw up on anyone, don't pee on the floor and act like an earthling." I recite glumly. I least she doesn't drive me to school and enact this ritual where there are witnesses. "Very good! Now off you go, don't get lost. We won't be home for supper, but I will get you something. Good luck!"

So this is it. Chance 10000000000th, lets hope I don't botch this one up. I'm standing at the doors looking up to the top of the high-rise until I get a crick in my neck. You would never even know there was a school here, in the middle of a random highrise. In North America schools are always really obvious. The public schools are gray and falling down, while the private schools are either really old and austere or big and shiny.

Its pretty intimidating all of sudden but my contemplation is cut short as a group of giggling, annoying girls (who somehow manage to pull off the uniform) sweep me up, through the glass doors and into the elevator. As the doors closed, I saw Tanya already in the middle of a group of guys. I don't know why I am even bothering to go to school. There is only a month left. Somehow the parents think I will be able to make friends for the summer. I wish. I eventually find myself in the front row desk of a classroom, which I really hope is my homeroom. I smile, I suck up to teachers, met a few people but I don't remember their names. Sometimes I wonder what the point is; I'm rarely around long enough to even have an opportunity to use them again. I learn about my new set of classes where we have to prepare for the upcoming exams. Somehow I am expected to write, and oh yes, pass exams on things I don't know about. Then it was off to gym class, already my least favourite period, as always. Lunch, usually my favorite time was interesting, here I was with a Pb&J sandwich that I made myself in a plastic baggy with some crackers (or cookies here) and a yogurt container, while everyone else seemed to have designer food. Stuff from Harrods I can't even pronounce that no kid in their right mind should ever eat. If I can't say it, I'm not putting it in my mouth.

It's finally over. I survived. Barely… oh well. I almost get hit by a double-decker bus (apparently I called them Decker-decker buses as a kid), accidentally take a confusing detour, but finally reach the apartment. I start what will be a new routine, unlock one door, get the newspaper, grab the mail, labour up a flight of steps, up another door, drop everything at the door and flop on the couch. I stay there without budging, probably with a bit of drool at the corner of my mouth as my eyes glaze over. Suddenly, I am jerked out of the void by a stream of yelling, it appears my mother came in and fell over the pile of stuff. After five minutes without taking a breath she starts to turn blue and orders me over to help her up. Like a robot, I heave her off the ground, she obviously following the diet less obediently that I am. She forces a pre-made salad at me and looks through the mail still muttering to herself about my incompetence.

"HANNAH! You have another of those stupid letter AGAIN! I THOUGHT I made myself quite clear about contests!!" I think my eardrums crack.

"I didn't enter any more, it's probably the same one again." I mutter, but she doesn't listen to me, instead she chucks it in the bin and storms off. This is sort of thing is normal, but I am not too worried, as she will surely be leaving again in a few minutes. After the door slams, I retrieve the letter, now covered in carrot peels.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore _

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Ms. Van Horne,_

_As we have no received an indication upon whether you would be joining us in the fall, I will be visiting your place of residence on the evening of the first to ensure there are no problems, answer any questions and will be expecting your answer at this time._

_Yours sincerely,_

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress


	10. Chapter 10: Just a story!

Disclaimer: A really long chapter ahead where all the world of Harry Potter is copyrighted by JKR and the rest copyrighted by HvH (me).

Really, I am tired of this, I thought as I looked at the letter accusingly. This contest has already gotten me in trouble and if someone really does show up at the apartment then I am in for it. Or what if, I think for a horrible moment, my mother is right and it is some creepy person who wants god knows what. I can't stop worrying about it all day with the result of being even more absent minded than usual. I paid no attention to my classes for the first time. It is not normal for me to not be attentive in class. I was always a top student, but not from any seemingly natural talent. Just a lot of hard work and sleepless nights. Last year science was so hard because of changing schools so often, I looked like a raccoon from lack of sleep. I don't understand how I am expected to do well as every school does different things. However, my life somehow, is unbelievably easier if I get good grades, no matter how much sleep I lose. I cannot stand being told about the straight A's my sister has and why I can't be more like her.

But for once I have more pressing things on my minded and just can't be bothered. I rush home after school, tripping many times with my usual clumsiness. I already break the routine, running straight to the dreaded shared bedroom and attempt to think of the best way out of this. Stay outside and guard the door so no one comes in? Pretend I am not home? I definitely need to find a way from keeping my parents from coming home. But all the ideas that come in this frenzied state, involving telling them Tanya is the hospital or something like it, like police station and therefore all involve getting me in more trouble and they would come home soon after when they found of the truth. Perhaps I could injure myself so I end up in the hospital; everyone would believe it had happened by accident.

I run to the kitchen, wrench open a drawer and grab a knife, stopping to consider what would be the most painless accident that could be easily fixed. **BANG!! **I drop the knife in surprise and it manages to cut straight through my toe. But I didn't need the knife to keep me glued to the spot. I was terrified motionless, positive someone was just knocking down the door.

"Hello, is anyone at home?"

I was surprised to here the voice of what sounded like an elderly lady. What was going on here? Footsteps approached the tiny kitchen, I was trapped.

"Oh good! You are here. I was afraid that you might not have received my letter after all! You must be Hannah. I am Professor McGonagall the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts. As you know I am here to discuss our offer to have you attend the school." My jaw drops to the floor in shock. Here in front of me is a woman who looks exactly like I always imagined Professor McGonagall, tall gray pointy hat, matching gray robes, a tight bun of brown hair at the base of her neck and square glasses sitting primly on her nose. When I don't say anything she starts to look at me a bit suspiciously as if she knows there is something wrong. We both notice a little puddle of blood on the floor at the same time. I had forgotten to feel any pain but it suddenly came rushing back.

"Oh my goodness! What happened? I must have given you a fright when I apparated. I forgot you muggles were not used to such things!" She pulls out a little stick of wood from the folds of her robe and I know instinctively that it is a wand, even before the knife removes itself and all the pain and blood disappear.

"Truly sorry my dear! Why don't we take a sit and talk everything over." I nod dumbly and lead the way to the table and took a seat.

"Now Hannah, I assume you must now of our world now, after that meddling Diggle spilled our secrets to that muggle woman. Apparently, now all children, magic or not, now know Harry Potter's name, not that he needs to be more well known." She told me, her mouth turning into an impossibly thin line. "I will assume from your shocked appearance that you didn't believe it to be true. The ministry had quite a time convincing muggles to believe it was all just a great story. We were terrified that the muggle community would discover our presence at last, after all our efforts. However, I have already proved to you that it is true."

I goggle at her, wanting to believe it, but I was pretty sure that _I_ had just proved myself ready for the insane asylum.

"Our sources tell us that you have enormous magical capabilities. Dumbledore would have even come to speak with you if it hadn't been for some unfortunately unpleasant responsibilities." She frowned in what I thought was disdain. "Unlike usual you did not appear on our lists of potential students when you became of age. We believe this has to do with your constant moving and not even our sources could pinpoint you. However, when you visited England last year, they registered your potential and we have been attempting to contact you ever since, which has proved to be unsuccessful. It is Dumbledore's greatest wish that you attend Hogwarts to develop and train your magic. Would you like to come?" She asked me kindly and peered at me curiously from behind her spectacles. I nodded and shook my head simultaneously. Her eyebrows rose in confusion and I knew I need to muster the strength to speak. I cleared my throat.

"Um, no offense Professor, but that's just a story. A great one of course!" I add hastily. "One I would love to believe in, but I… I know it is not possible. I didn't realize when I applied to the contest that it would include… such things." I felt proud to be able to make a proper sentence despite my mumbling and stuttering. Yet she smiled kindly, even though her eyes seemed sad.

"Hannah, you must believe me, I am a witch and the magic I performed earlier was no trick of strings and technology. Harry Potter, Ronald Weasly, Hermonie Granger, Albus Dumbledore and all of Hogwarts really does exist. A wizard spilled their stories to a muggle writer who hoped to tell the muggle community of our amazing hidden world."

"I believe you." I thought I should humor her as she was starting to look a bit strained with the effort of convincing me.

"Good. Now, would you like to attend Hogwarts? You would be two years behind. A big gap. But we are prepared to make special arrangements for you. You would arrive at the school ahead of schedule and have private lessons with all available teachers to catch up. While we cannot hope to cover two years material in a month, with intensive work on all sides, we believe you would be prepared to join the third years when they arrive, with continued tutoring after normal classes. If you wish to accept you must be prepared to work harder than you ever have in your life. It will be difficult, frustrating and often disheartening, but we think you are capable. The rewards are numerous, firstly it is dangerous to leave your powers untrained. Secondly, it is best to come to Hogwarts, instead of another wizarding school, which might attempt to influence you in inappropriate directions. We know you have a thirst for learning, and we think you would greatly enjoy what we have to teach. The job opportunities are numerous and exciting once you finish your schooling. Lastly, you will then be able to do so many things that you never dreamed of. What do you say?" But I didn't know what to say, I pinched myself so many times to wake me up from this dream that my arm was red. If I was to believe her, I was daunted by how much work it would be, excited by the prospect of leaving this dull life and of learning magic. But I saw no way that it could possibly be true. It was just too good to be true. I must have gone beyond the stages of insanity to some uncharted area.

I was saved (and doomed) from saying anything to this figment of my imagination but the sound of the key turning in the lock and in walked my father. That was lucky. He was much easier to deal with than my mother, no yelling or agreeing with my diagnosis. Hopefully.

"Ah, excellent timing, I had hoped to discuss this with your parents today." My figment stood up and strode towards my father, totally unaware of his look of surprise by her existence and appearance. Wait a minute, why can he see my hallucinations???

"Good evening Mr. van Horne. I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have many things to discuss with you, if we could perhaps join Hannah at the table." She gestured as if he was her guest. He looked questioningly at me and said,

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. McGonagall. If you don't mind me asking but how did you come to know my daughter?"

"I am here representing Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster, who would very much like to meet with you himself if it were not for extenuating circumstances. I offered Hannah a position at the school in my letter. However, as we did not receive an answer, I came to ensure there were no problems and to discuss this abnormal situation."

"Oh you must be from that contest Hannah entered!" He exclaimed as comprehension dawned. I thought now she might drop the ruse but she shook her head and muttered, "The ministry has seemed to have done their job to well. No Mr. Robinson, I haven't come because of a contest. As I have been explaining to Hannah, I am a witch. I suppose I will have to show you. Even though you are a muggle, you would see magic from your daughter so the law is not in effect I suppose." She took out her wand again and transfigured the mug on the table, left over from my breakfast, into a vase full of red roses.

"That should brighten up the place. At Hogwarts I would be teaching Hannah the art of transfiguration, a very useful skill meaning she could disguise herself or change any object she wished. She would learn Potions, and will be able to brew medicines and a large number of things. There is also Charms, Herbology, History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts as well as many electives." I had been listening with rapt attention, but droned out once she began explaining the extra classes again. My mind reeled. I thought that Harry had accepted this a lot more quickly than I am. Papa looks doubtful but impressed by what she is saying, which I guess is the point. In a break in the conversation, reminded of Harry, I blurted out,

"But there is not way I can do magic. I am not like Harry. Things don't happen when I am mad."

"Magic shows itself different in everyone. I am told that your wounds heal so quickly as to baffle doctors. When concentrating you are able to read people's emotions. While absent minded, you actually have a miraculous memory, even if you don't believe it. Even more interesting is that you get glimpses of what is to come, which muggles called Déjà vu." A smile spread across her face and even reached her stern eyes and I gazed at her. I was too stunned to even question how she got her information. I had indeed fallen down the stairs and had broken my leg, which healed in a week. I often find that I have seen exact pictures or situations before. But as for the memory bit, that was debatable.

"Harry jumped roves and made glass disappear. He has different skills." My father sputtered,

"Wait this Harry kid exists? But that's a story!"

"It is a true story of our world and it's struggles. I believe even I am mentioned in the books, isn't that right Hannah?" I nod, silent again. "Well, I realize this is a lot of information to take in and you cannot possibly come to a decision so soon. I must leave, but I will leave a device that you can use to tell me of your answer. I ask that it be made by this time tomorrow, I realize that is short but it is vital to the planning that must take place for all the extra classes you need. If you decline, be aware other schools might make offers, but I must unbiasly say that it would be unwise to attend such schools. If you accept, Hagrid the gamekeeper at Hogwarts will come and collect you the next morning. He will escort you both to Diagon Alley to exchange money to our currency and to purchase books, robes, wand and all the other necessary supplies on the list in my first letter. Then he will take Hannah to the school where she can settle in and begin her make up classes. She will live there for the year, and the next 4 until she completes her schooling. She can come home for Christmas and must come home for summer holidays. However, it might be necessary to remain for this Christmas to continue extra classes. She will be very comfortable at the castle, sharing a dorm with others of her age and attending classes and meals. If you press this side, it will indicate yes." She showed us a small black cylinder, on side blue and motioned to the red side, "and this no. Please consider this quickly. Please do not tell anyone outside your immediate family. I must depart. Farewell, till we meet again Hannah, Mr. Robinson." She shook his hand and with a quieter bang, disappeared into thin air.


	11. Chapter 11: Glee

Disclaimer: Yah! We are finally getting somewhere. Now I do not want to stop in case I have to wait half a year for more inspiration. The world of Harry Potter and its characters sadly belong to J.K. Rowling. But I do own the other characters, which isn't so bad I guess.

For the second time today, I found myself sitting in a dazed silence, but this time my mind was buzzing and I was staring at my father's confused face. After a long time he asked,

"Well?" and I shrugged. He sighed

"Do you believe her?" To my astonishment I nodded.

"Me too, apparently. I assume you want to go?" I nodded vigorously.

"She said it would be a huge amount of work. You would need to learn two years of work in a month and you have had no previous experience of any kind in these subjects before, unlike normal. But I know lots of work doesn't trouble you. But is it worth it? You will be away from home, in a huge school by the sounds of it and it will be nothing like any of the other schools you have been too." He looked dubious.

"I know Papa. But I can do it. I know I can. I have dealt with other languages before, surely this can't be too hard. She said I had a lot of potential, that I could do it. And think of all the things I will be able to do! And the jobs I could I have! It's a million times better than any of the other things I have considered and…" I blabbered so fast I wasn't sure he understood it all. He held up his hands to silence me and chuckled.

"I haven't seen you this excited in a long time. That must be a good sign. I think you can do it too even though I never knew you were magic, or magical, or… are you a witch now then or what?" I laughed, glad for the small joke, proving he didn't think this was crazy and wasn't angry. "Now all we need to do is convince your mother. I wish she had gotten here in time to see the magic. That might have helped but she would have tried to explain it away with logic. Do you have any homework? It would make a good impression to have it all done. Plus we will need all the time we can get for arguing." I jumped up and hugged him,

"Thank you Papa! Thank you for believing when I find it hard to believe it myself! Me, a witch! It's what I have always wanted." And I ran off to do any work I could find. Only problem is that I didn't actually have any. I was supposed to be studying for exams about stuff I hadn't even learned. I decided the best way to look studious was to sit and read all my text books and make notes.

She didn't arrive home till 9 o'clock. By that time, I had worked my way through the easy history and was pleased to find I had already done the math, even though it hopefully wouldn't matter soon. But I will not get into all that followed. In short, laughter, disbelief, yelling, a confused, slightly tipsy Tanya, crying, reasoning, showing the flowers, embarrassingly telling of the knife and presenting the hole in my sock and light scar. After many hours, my mother surprisingly agreed on the condition that she go to this alley and see proof for herself. But with so much arguing I became so sure that I wanted to do this, that I would have gone without her permission anyhow.

She made me go to bed, and I didn't sleep for excitement. After waiting for 3 hours I leaped up and ran to press yes on the device. I then had to argue some more about how it would be completely useless to go to school for just 1 day. We need to get ready, I had no clean clothes and practically none of my belongings.

So we go shopping yet again, but for once I didn't mind. If everything I had read was true, than students wore normal clothes under their robes. So we went to a really basic department store and got some cheap jeans and shirts. I packed my meager belongings and spent the rest of the day jumping around the apartment, unable to keep still and attempting to explain to Tanya where I was going but she didn't seem too interested and completely ignores me in usual fashion. She even complained that I was annoying her and that she had a headache, hung over more likely. We actually ate dinner together for once for the special occasion and we speculated what it would be like and what I would learn. We drink tea in good ol' British fashion. But now I feel all drowsy and my head slumps onto the table… at least I don't have to do the dishes…


	12. Chapter 12: Mother, be polite!

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The other characters added in are all owned by me.

BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!! Ugh school time again. I open my eyes slowly. That's weird. I feel strangely rested, like for once I got a good nights sleep, not worried by crazy dreams or being squashed by this cot or being a witch. I am not positive but I think my mother might have slipped me a sleeping pill. Today's important for some reason than… OH MY GOSH! I'm a witch! I leap up so fast the cot snaps together, just like I always suspected, but I am way to excited to care about the potential injuries. I am leaving this morning! No more switching schools ever again! One place for 5 years! I will know people for more than a few months! No more living so close to my sister, no more getting in trouble with my mother, no more yelling and no more learning boring, unimportant things in school. This train of thought gets me to blow drying my hair in an actual attempt to make a good first impression but as I turn the heat on the nervousness hits me. My stomach is full of butterflies, I feel like I might be sick. There is no way I can do this. I don't know the first thing about magic or potions and I will be so behind no matter how hard I work. The people are going to be so different, maybe real witches and wizards act totally different. Oh my god, I will even be in the same grade as Harry Potter just like the books! I wonder how much is really true! My mind whirls, I am going to get so lost, I am going to get stuck in stairways and I can't fly, let alone walk, I won't remember anyone's' name, I don't have the concentration to cook let along make potions… I slump in my chair and feel too sick to eat. My father sees my green face,

"It's okay to be nervous. It's a big change. But I know you will be amazing at whatever you decide to do if you work hard, and you will. Do not worry, you need to eat something though, you have a big day ahead of you." I smile weakly, and manage to eat some weird British cereal. Mom bustles in,

"Sit up straight." She snaps. "Do you know when this man is coming?" I shake my head and she purses her lips in a Dursley like fashion. I start when I realize even they exist. "Not very considerate, we might be busy."

"You don't have to come if you don't want to." I mumble into my spoon.

"Not come! I know what you are thinking! You don't want me to come! Do you know how that makes me feel?" She glares at me. Always thought my mother disliked me and she always thought I disliked her in return. "You are not going until I see this place for myself, so get used to it. Hurry up!" She stomps off and my father shakes his head.

"Don't worry about her, she is just worried." I rush and organize all my stuff next to the door. I move the cot into the corner. It seems funny how short this stay was. I had only just put up all my pictures. Tanya isn't even attempting to hide her joy at having the room to herself. I don't think she will even miss me a bit. She won't come with us because she thinks wizards are all old and wrinkly, thus accompanying us would be a waste of a perfectly good flirting day.

I can't take it anymore. I am sick of waiting. I have been waiting forever! I keep rearranging my bags so they are all straight and tidy and check my hair and small attempt at makeup, afraid that by breathing I might mess them up. I tried watching tv, but that seemed too normal. I tried to read, which usually captures my attention but I read the same line 10 times, listened to my iPod.

BOOM BOOM BOOM! We all freeze, slightly nervous. My father, the brave one, opens the door. Behind him is the biggest man I have ever seen. The top of the doorway is at his nose and you can't see any of the hall around them. Ever diplomatic and friendly, papa invites the huge man inside.

"You're Hagrid right? The Gamekeeper? My name is Hannah." Not really sure where that boldness came from. He smiled,

"They've writen abou' me to, eh? Wouldn't cha' know. Yup I'm Hagrid." And he claps me on the back with such force he sends me scrawling across the floor…ouch.

"Whoops, sorry." He says as he picks me up by the back of my shirt. "Yeh must be Mr. and Mrs. Van Horne, glad ter meet ya. As she said I'm Reubus Hagrid, the gamekeeper. We're goin' to Diagon Alley, so we'd better make a move on den. T'is all the stuff you got?" I nod and nudge my stunned parents in the back as he picks up my bags and swings them over his shoulder and goes out into the hall. We follow and I feel a bit shy all of a sudden, which is uncharacteristic of me. I am not used to being shorter than people, and I wonder if this how everyone feels around me. We follow him out of the apartment and down the street to the Subway station where people stare at him. He chuckles at the turnstiles and merely steps over them.

"Right so, ye' gotta buy yer tickets. Hannah, could ye get one fer me? I never got the hang o' this muggle money." He stuffs some bills into my hand. People jump out of the way as we approach the escalator but Hagrid strides onto one and almost falls over. He doesn't seem to know how they work. He grasped the banister,

"The things muggles come up wit'." He has to bend almost double to get onto the subway and takes up three seats by himself. My mother finally finds her voice,

"So, what do you do as the gamekeeper at Hogwarts?" I shake my head, ashamed that my mother doesn't know anything about the books.

"Well, I've got lots o duties ye know. Mainly I look after all the magical creatures like the Thestrals, unicorns and all the others livin' in the forest. Then there's the Quidditch pitch to take care of and thawin' out the broomsticks when it gets cold, growin' the pumpkins and Christmas trees, I'm always busy, but tis a great job." A smile turned up the corners of his beard and crinkled his eyes, "Great man, Dumbledore."

"How are the teachers?" Mother asked, obviously hoping they be a little more normal than Hagrid.

"Well, it's a great staff. McGonagall has Transfiguration, suppose she told ye that, Flitwick is Charms, Professor Snape is Potions." He counted off on his fingers, "Ye'll have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher since Lockhart addled his own brains, the git."

"Wow!" My eyes lit up," So there really was a chamber of secrets? Harry killed the Basilisk right? And saved Ginny! He had Fawkes help of course. You went to Azkaban, that made me so mad, obviously you didn't do it, you are no more Slytherin's heir than I am, that was ludicrous. Fudge has got a lot to answer too. But you really shouldn't have told them to follow the spiders, they were almost killed! And poor Hermonie petrified. I hope we can be friends so she might help me out with all I have to learn." I gibbered faster than the speed of light.

"Now wait a minute. Is it really as dangerous as the books say? Huge spiders and snakes and this Voldermort person on the lose?" My dad demanded.

"Don't say that name!" He was white as a ghost, "It's You-Know-Who. But never fear, Hogwarts is the safest place to be. You-Know-Who would never come near with Dumbledore there. We've been preparin' all summer with the current situation. The ministry's putting Dementors at the entrance." He shivered and grimaced.

"What do you mean the current situation? What in the world are dementors?" He looked more even more worried now.

"Ah well, strange ye don't know. A man 'scaped from Azkaban for the first time." He shook his enormous head in dismay.

"Wait, is that the man on the news? We sunken eyes and matted, dirty hair?" The high nervous voice of my mother cut across my contemplation of escaping from the wizard prison.

"The same. A lot o' people didn't think it twas wise of Fudge to alert you muggles, but he is dangerous to us all. But like I said, not a safer place than Hogwarts." Hagrid assured her. She didn't reply, but I knew that wouldn't be the end of it. She was very disgusted by his appearance and as usual, thus judged he was very dangerous. She is the worst for judging people on their appearance, that somehow people with nose rings and spiked pink hair could not have any intelligence. This meant I was never allowed to dress how I wanted, in ways that would apparently give bad impressions.

"Right, ere's the stop." We all lumber off the train, up another escalator and out into the street. There was no time for talking as we had to run to keep up. After turning a few corners, he walks right up to an old boarded up building next to a book store.


	13. Chapter 13: Best shopping trip ever

The Leaky Cauldron appeared before my eyes. I started to follow Hagrid, but I noticed my parents were still standing in the street looking perplexed.

"Come on, it's the pub the Leaky Cauldron, it's famous. It's the way muggles get into Diagon Alley. Just think about and it will show up." I grab the arms of their jackets and pulled them, just in case.

I drag them into the gloomy bar, and was annoyed to see a look of disgust on my mother's face. She believes anything less than pristine cleanliness to be utterly disgraceful and unnecessary.

"The usual, Hagrid?" the bald barman, Tom, I remember, asked as the other guests waved.

"Can't, I'm on Hogwarts business."

I was strongly reminded of Harry's first entrance into the wizard's world and I know he must have been much more nervous than I am now. But unlike Harry, no one came to shake my hand, which was to be expected. Even though none of them have ever heard of me before, I am remarkably unremarkable anyways. They took much more interest in my parents who were obviously muggles. My father looked quite fine, always going with the flow, comfortable anywhere as usual. On the other hand my confident mother seems, for the first time ever, to be trembling with nervousness. I really hope she doesn't embarrass me as making a good impression actually matters for once. We passed into the courtyard and Hagrid started rummaging around in his huge overcoat. Even my father was surprised when he pulled out a bright pink umbrella and started counting the stones on the wall.

"Three up, two across. Right, stand back."

Just as I had imagined so many times before, the brick wriggled back until there was a large archway leading into the most interesting street in the world. Just like Harry, I wished for at least two more eyes, if not more.

"Welcome, to Diagon Alley." Hagrid said before striding of into the street, "Follow me."

I looked behind me and sighed at my parents open mouths and grabbed their coats again. We followed in Hagrid's wake past the foul smelling Apothecary, people dressed in flowing cloaks of all colours and signs advertising the escape of the skeletal man, Sirius Black. We reached Gringotts, the snowy-white building towering over the rest of the street and I remembered excitedly about the rumor dragons guarding the high security vaults. I was brought back to this amazing reality when my mother painfully gripped my arm.

"Ouch! You're hurting me!" But then I saw the look on her face and I knew she was repressing a scream. She was starring at the two figures guarding the doors.

"Calm down. They are just goblins. They aren't going to hurt you." I wrenched my arm away and climbed the steps and she had no choice but to follow. My father, a geologist was immediately distracted by the marble making up the walls and began listing all the types present. I rolled my eyes and wished, not for the first time, that I wasn't related to such people. I finally dragged them over to the high counter and Hagrid told the nearest goblin that we wanted to change some money. I pulled out my wallet from my back pocket that was hanging off a chain. It contained my pitiful life savings.

"How much do we need? Put that away Hannah. You don't have to pay for your own school books." My father told me with a smile. The goblin gave him the wizard gold and I explained the money system.

"Right then. Take a look at yer school list. This first lot is gonna be mighty expensive as you have to get all the first and second year books as well." Hagrid told us and I looked at the two page long list in dismay. "But don't worry. You don't actually have t' buy all Lockhart's books. Unless, yeh want t'o' course. The git." He grinned and winked at me."

Twenty minutes later, we were all loaded down with more books than we knew what to do with and the owner of Flourish and Bolts looked as if Christmas had come early. I was so glad my father was paying for all of this, I didn't need to be told that this cost twice as much as my life's savings.

"Uniform next at Madam Malkins. I'll wait out here, if yeh don't mind." Hagrid pointed toward a robe shop. I sincerely hope this uniform one would be better than the last. We entered the shop, all unsure about what to do.

"How can I help you?" A squat witch as us.

"Umm, I'm going to Hogwarts and uhh…" I stammered.

"Out grown your old ones already, dear? You're a bit early. But not a problem." She gestured for me to stand on a footstool with a smile. She pulled a black robe over my head and stepped back. "Too small." She murmured, looking slightly surprised. I didn't look as tall as I was, on account of being wide, instead of the expected slim and thin. She pulled it over my head again, slightly mussing my blow dried hair. Before I had time to flatten she gave me another and this time started to pin up the hem. I actually got a proper witches hat to go with my robes. There was also a really nice winter clock and dragon hide gloves. My mom shook her head at what she thought was false advertising.

"There are no such things as dragons."

"There used to be no such things as witches either." My father muttered as we left the shop. With Hagrid's help we managed to get a telescope, a cauldron (causing my father to chuckle), scales and potions ingredients from the Apothecary. Mom refused to go in.

"Is there wireless internet at the school?" She asked Hagrid when we came out. He looked at her blankly, "What's that."

"Oh you know, for her laptop, to write us emails. And phones?" Realization dawned in his eyes and he laughed.

"All yer muggle technology, none of it works in Hogwarts. We use owl post in the wizarding world." I finally tuned in to what they were talking about and stopped dead in my tracks, causing my father and several other people to bump into me.

"What? No technology at all? I knew you didn't use telephones, but surely my laptop has to work?!" A note of panic crept into my voice.

"Nope, too much magic around. My advice is t' get an owl. Dead useful them. That's the only communication into Hogwarts." After that my mom marched right to Eeylops Owl Emporium to buy me an owl. I was still in shock but also couldn't believe my luck to actually get an owl of my own. I fell in love with the first one I saw because of blue eyes starring at me from beautiful tawny plumage. I decided to name her Tuala after a character from another favourite book.

"Jus yer wand left now. Ollivanders is always the best place. " Again we followed right behind Hagrid. People were starring at us. I had thought it was from the sight of Hagrid but then I heard a small child, "Dad! Look dad, look! Muggles! What are muggles doing here?" and I felt my face turn red. We entered the dim shop to the tinkling of a bell. It was so tiny, that with all our packages we were so squished we could hardly move. I peered through the dust for Mr. Ollivander. Suddenly, he appeared from the shadows, took in the scene before him and conjured up two more chairs.

"Good Afternoon. Rubeus Hagrid! Back again. Oak, sixteen inches?"

"Right as always, sir." Mr. Ollivander turned and peered at me with pale eyes, "A new wand for you, I presume." He stated. "I do not remember you, where did you buy your last wand?"

"This would be my first, sir." I gulped. He looked a bit surprised but then briskly pulled out a measuring tape, "Wand arm?" I held out my right and he started to taking measurements. He seemed to realize that I must be muggle born (it was fairly obvious) and began to explain how his wands were made. He pulled out a box.

"Phoenix tail feather, 8 inches, ebony. Give it a wave, Ms…"

"Van Horne." I said automatically and waved it around. He grabbed it back, "10 inches, maple and unicorn hair." Again, the same effect. Even though I was so nervous, I laughed on the inside to see the mystified looks of my parents as I tried more and more wands. "Another tricky customer." Mr. Ollivander noted happily. "Willow, 14 inches, dragon heartstring, long and bendy." There was a sudden warmth and knew this was the one before the gold and red sparks flew out of it. Hagrid and my father clapped, mom was still stunned.

"Do you believe all of it now, mom?" I asked with a grin. But she didn't return the smile. I realized that it was only now she had really found out that I was truly different. I didn't like that it bothered her more than it did me. I had expected her to be happy for me. Papa paid 7 Galleons and left the dark, gloomy shop. I tried not to think about it; instead I focused on the miraculous fact that I had a wand. There was no going back now. We went back through the wall into the Leaky Cauldron.

"Well, seems to me the best thing to do is for Hannah and I to stay here for the night and then catch the train to Hogwarts tomorrow morning. We can have dinner together if you like and then you can make yer way home. We will be leavin' at the crack o' dawn tomorrow. What d'yeh say?" Hagrid asked.

"Sounds good to me." Papa replied looking fixedly at mother.

"Oh, all right. Then we can take your computer and everything back home with us." I couldn't help it, I blanched. Hagrid laughed and slapped me in the back so hard I banged into the wall, "Don't you worry, you'll find plenty t' keep yeh busy at Hogwarts. Oh, that reminds me. Proffessor McGonagall asked me to give this to yeh." He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of one of his many pockets, smoothed it out and gave it to me. It seemed to be a permission slip of some kind.

"Where's Hogsmede?" I asked.

"Oh, it's the wizard town near the school. Only third years and up are 'llowed to go. Great place, got the Three Broomsticks, Shrieken' Shack, the Owl Post Office, Joke shop and o'course Honeydukes. Jus' need it signed to go." I handed it over to the parents to read.

"It's quite safe? It won't distract from her studies?" Mom, always worried about grades. She has always been too over protective. Even though sometimes I feel as though I live alone, I have no freedom either. She believes it is my fault that I rarely have friends but it's impossible when you can never go out.

"It shouldn't. And if it weren't safe Dumbledore wouldn't allow the student t' go." Even though she looked dubious she signed the slip and gave it back to me to my delight.

Tom, the innkeeper showed us to our rooms and I had to spent half an hour going through and taking out all my techie gear from my bags. My mom actually had to uncurl my fingers from my iPod. But how would I sleep? What if my roommates snored? When I was finished it looked as though I barely had any belongings. That will be true if my bags don't turn up. I made the parents promise to call the airline until they found everything and then to mail it to me. By owl post, I reminded myself. But at least now I had room to put all my new school things. I couldn't wait to get started, but the butterflies were back in my stomach. We ate dinner together, my mother surprisingly managed to make pleasant conversation about the wizarding world. I tried to keep the subject away from Voldemort and his recent attempts to regain power. I didn't want her to think it was too unsafe and forbid me from going. When it finally came time to say good bye, I was shocked when she started to cry. I was at a complete loss as to what I should do.

"A whole six months! I don't know how I will survive! It will seem so quiet without you! I am going to miss you so much!" She grasped me around the neck. I always knew she had a flair for the dramatics but this was taking it a bit far. She often left for 3 months at time. However, I thought it prudent to not remind her that I would stay over Christmas too. I don't think I can take more of this exaggerated sobbing. Finally, my father pulled her off me saying they would miss the train. He secretly passed me some money as he hugged me, reminded me to have a good time and study hard. They walked back out to the muggle world and I felt a twinge of loss, but at this point I was to impatient to start reading my new books to give it much thought.


	14. Chapter 14: Dementors?

"Miss, you must go soon." Tom, the Innkeeper gently shook me awake and handed me a cup of tea. I realized I was still fully dressed with my Transfiguration book lying open on my stomach. It wasn't until early in the morning that I had actually fallen asleep. I was already half way through the 10th chapter and I couldn't wait to get started with the actual spell work, but I knew I wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school. I dragged myself off the bed and shuffled to the window. I pulled the flowered curtains back and a faint rosy light filled the room. I figured it must be around 6ish and groaned. I brushed my teeth and attempted to make myself look human. I was brushing my hair in front of an old silver mirror,

"Smile, my dear. There's nothing to worry about." I jumped five feet in the air and looked around wildly for the source of the voice. There was no one there. I scratched my head in confusion and then laughed to myself when I realized it had to come from an adjoining room. I grinned, thinking of how jumpy my nerves were and continued to brush out the tangles.

"There. You look so much prettier when you smile." The voice continued. My hand froze in midair and my eyes widened to the size of saucers. The _mirror_ was talking to me! Was I supposed to talk back?

"Uh. Thanks." I mumbled.

"No problem, dear. Just don't forget." I nodded and kept brushing my hair, pretending this happened everyday. I stuffed my suitcase with my textbooks, uniform, scrolls, cauldron and even those old fashioned quill and ink. I had to sit on my bag to get the zipper closed. Not knowing what I was to do next, I patted Tuala and talked to her absent mindedly. A few minutes later, Hagrid called through the door,

"Hannah, are yeh awake? We should be goin'." I put Tuala back in her cage and picked up my suitcase and backpack. It seemed strange to go to school with a suitcase. I lugged it down the narrow, curving staircase. The room was empty except for Hagrid sitting at the bar, talking with Tom, where some buttered toast waited. "Morning." I said as I dug in.

"It's probably a good thing you are leaving straight away. I'm not looking forward to dealing with my other guests if the rumors turn out to be true." Tom was shaking his head.

"But surely they can't come in ter here?"

"I have no authority to stop them. But it's bad for business, I'll tell you that."

"Not surprised." Hagrid muttered darkly.

"Who are you talking about?" My curiosity was piqued.

"Not who, but what." Tom replied.

"Dementors." Something about Hagrid's voice chilled me to the bone. "Azkaban guards." I remembered that he had been sent to the wizard's prison just the last month and touched his arm in sympathy, he gave me a weak smile in return. "They're crawlin' all over the place nowadays with Black on the lose. Searchin' the Alley every chance they get. I even hear talk about Fudge puttin' em up at the school. But Dumbledore won't allow it, that's fer sure."

"Enough of this talk. You will be long gone before they get here." He put down a glass he had been polishing and to my surprise, shook my hand, "It was nice to meet you. You are always welcome here." He said formally. After a last gulp of tea, Hagrid pick up my book laden suitcase as if it was no more than a hand purse and walked back out into the muggle world.


End file.
